Therapy
by jaicubed
Summary: Between a mysterious request from Dumbledore to return to Hogwarts and weekly appointments with a Muggle psychologist, Harry has found himself needing more than one kind of therapy. HP/DM, rated M for future content.


Disclaimer:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Therapy**

Hermione had made him. It wasn't as though he was against the idea- Merlin knew he needed it- but he wasn't the type to burden others with his feelings. Even if he was paying them.

She had even called and made the appointment for him, using a voice charm and posing as an old woman.

"Yes, Mrs. Potter, we can fit Harry in right away," he heard the receptionist say as Hermione held up her cell on speaker-phone. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes as she ended the call, crossing her arms and looking at him pointedly.

"Now you have no excuse. I've found the doctor and made the appointment. All you have to do is get your sorry arse over there at noon on Tuesday. And please, wear something a little nicer. This hobo look you have going on isn't exactly helping you appear sane."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said weakly, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Hermione softened at the dejected look on his face. She walked to him and cupped his cheek in her hand.

"Harry, you need this. You need to talk to someone who isn't me or Ron. Now that the war is over, you have an opportunity to finally find some peace. I chose a Muggle doctor because he won't know you from Dumbledore. Magic and the war might be off limits but your parents, Sirius…" She paused. "Even Ginny…are all fair game. Maybe they can even cure you of your hero complex."

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. He grinned in spite of himself.

"I don't have a hero complex!"

Mondays. _They suck in the Wizarding world too_, Harry thought to himself as he prepared to Apparate to work.

_It's my own fault_, he mused as his stomach tightened and he whizzed through time and space. He appeared in an alley in Muggle London, looking bemusedly to the street where an old wizard was hopelessly failing at passing as a Muggle. The newspaper saleswoman was looking frightened as Glodeus Mardwell rifled violently through her stack of _The Times_, looking for a copy that "wasn't defective". Glodeus was more than absentminded and often forgot that Muggle photos didn't move. _I have enough money to never work again._

Harry approached the stand and clasped Glodeus on the back. "Hello mate, ready to go inside?" The saleswoman looked relieved.

Glodeus jumped and turned to Harry. He then smiled jovially. "Why hello there Harry! Yes, I think I am. All I wanted was some morning reading, but apparently this woman isn't aware of the Hippogriff dung she's selling. Photos don't even move!"

Harry winced as he saw the saleswoman's eyes widen, and he whispered a quick "Obliviate" under his breath. He pushed Glodeus towards the door and into the building, where at once an owl landed on Harry's shoulder.

"Morning, Flo," he said affectionately to the owl. He took the proffered post and led Glodeus up the marble staircase to their offices on the second floor.

Harry had taken the job a year ago at McGonagall's recommendation. He had adamantly refused at first.

"Absolutely not. I am not going to sit at a desk all day, Minerva," he said. She looked down through her spectacles and pursed her lips.

"Harry, you and I both know that your performance at Hogwarts in almost every subject was…well, it left a lot to be desired. And understandably so- the other students didn't have 'vanquish the Dark Lord' in their planners along with 'study for Potions'."

She took a sip of tea. "Anyone would hire Harry Potter, and your performance would be applauded, even if undeserved. But I know that you don't let your name do your work for you. And since you have declined an Auror position and further schooling- again, quite understandably- your options are limited. I think you would enjoy this, Harry."

He had eventually caved, and now here he was, working for the esteemed periodical _Quidditch World_. Admittedly, he didn't just shuffle papers- he did reporting, editing, layouts, and the like. He had taken to the job and had completed his training quickly, finding he had a knack for it. It wasn't as glamorous as actually _playing_ professional Quidditch, but it allowed him freedom to move and think.

_Mondays_. He sighed and remembered the post in his hand. He sat at his desk and was surprised to see a letter from Hogwarts in the hefty pile. He set it aside for last, and after the fan mail, work correspondence, and _Prophet_ had been read, he finally held the letter in his hand.

He opened it gingerly and saw Minerva's elegant script on the page.

_ Harry,_

_ I hope this missive finds you well. You know I dislike the impersonality of mail, but as I will be at the Wizengamot all day and cannot see you in person, this will have to suffice._

_ Albus deigned to make an appearance in his portrait in my office yesterday and we spoke at length. It seems that he is quite keen on having you back at Hogwarts in some capacity- why that is, he would not care to tell me, nor why he has waited this long to do so. In true Albus fashion, he withheld more than he shared- but it was clear that he wanted you back in the castle, position at the magazine or not._

_ In all of my years, Harry, I have never disobeyed an order from Albus. I am asking you to return to Hogwarts to live, indefinitely, until your esteemed former Headmaster decides to reveal his master plan. You can continue your work- apparating from Hogsmeade is quite easy- but Hogwarts requires your presence. I hope you understand._

_ -Minerva_

Harry dropped the letter onto his desk. It wasn't the first time Dumbledore had utterly befuddled him, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

The thought of returning to Hogwarts unnerved him. He had made a comfortable home for himself at Grimmauld Place and after the war had ended, he had decided to limit his time at Hogwarts to visiting Minerva and Neville, who was apprenticing Professor Sprout in the greenhouse.

_Let's hope he hasn't found a Voldemort clone in a closet somewhere._


End file.
